Returning to Hogwarts for my third year, I felt the familiar thrill of control and opportunity. The moment I stepped into the Slytherin common room, I could sense the undercurrents of annoyance and resentment — the petty squabbles, the attempts at hierarchy, the subtle challenges to my authority.
I had no patience for that. Not anymore.
I issued a challenge, a duel to every single member of Slytherin, one after another. Each fight was quick — precise, calculated, and devastating. My spells flowed effortlessly, silent and lethal when needed, and my magical strength, skill, and strategy were far beyond anything they could hope to oppose.
By the end of the day, Slytherin was united. Not through fear alone, but through respect — respect for someone who could lead them, protect them, and make them powerful. Each student who had challenged me now became a loyal subordinate, their skills honed under my guidance, their ambitions aligned with mine.
With Slytherin under my control, my focus shifted to long-term strategy. I had no interest in Griffindor — they were too chaotic, too headstrong — but the other two houses, neutral by nature, could be swayed. To recruit from them, I first needed to reshape the perception of Slytherin. I would erase the old image of arrogance and cruelty, and replace it with strength, influence, and opportunity.
The other houses needed to see Slytherin as a faction worth joining, a house that could offer protection, knowledge, and power. If I could achieve that, I could expand my influence beyond Hogwarts, planting seeds that would grow into loyal allies in every corner of the wizarding world.
I allowed myself a small smile as I looked around the Slytherin common room. My plans were already in motion, and by the end of this year, I would not just be the leader of Slytherin — I would be the undisputed force shaping the future of magic itself.